


STARMAN: Mysticism

by csyphrett



Series: Starman [2]
Category: Starman - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 05:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7253947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/csyphrett/pseuds/csyphrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Larry Oakley begins seeing things, changing things, as he works to heal people at the local hospital outside of Littleville. This gift also went to someone who has less than benevolent motives in the use of his powers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	STARMAN: Mysticism

STARMAN: Mysticism  
1  
Dr. Laurence Oakley sat at his desk. He stared at his hands as if he couldn’t believe  
they were still attached to his arms. He had done something in the hall, but he  
couldn’t explain it to himself.

Maybe he had been working too hard. It might be causing hallucinations. That was  
the easiest explanation, but it didn’t feel right.

Some of the staff had seen what he had done. He had heard their comments. So  
whatever it was, it had not been an hallucination.

He decided to go over the event in his mind. Maybe he could come up with a story  
that would make him feel that he was still sane.

He had checked into the hospital like usual. He did his morning rounds. He had lunch  
with Dr. Stebbins, and Dr. Pierce. He started his afternoon rounds.

One of the patients had been left in the hall. As he passed the gurney, the man had  
grabbed his arm with stick fingers. The patient refused to let go.

Oakley felt a flare in his eyes. The man had something growing out of his head. The  
doctor grabbed it with a hand and pulled it out. The thing burned away as he watched  
it. The patient dropped his hand. He went into arrest.

Oakley started compressions to get the heart moving again. He felt that flare again,  
and the man started breathing under his own power. Nurses came up to take over as  
the doctor backed away.

What had been that thing? It had died as soon as he had pulled it away from that man.  
What did it mean?

Was he cracking up? He wouldn’t be the first doctor driven crazy by work.

What if he saw one of those things again? Could he handle it as easy as the first one?  
Did he want to?

What if he had interpreted what he had heard wrong? What if the comments were part  
of the delusion? Was he having a nervous breakdown?

How would he know?

“Doctor Oakley?” Inez Cranston peered into his office. “Doctor Stebbins is looking  
for you.”

Inez seemed different to him. He couldn’t put his finger on it. There was a glow in her  
brown eyes, a luster about her skin. He squinted and the effect faded away. She was  
just his secretary again.

“Did he say what he needed?” Oakley stood. He placed his hands in the pockets of  
his labcoat.

“A patient consultation.” Inez looked at the note in her hand. “Something to do with  
an ulcer.”

“All right.” Oakley nodded. “Which patient?”

“Barton in three oh two.” She handed over the note. “He’s not responding to  
treatment according to Doctor Stebbins.”

“I’ll go down and see what I can do.” Oakley doubted he could do anything that  
Stebbins wasn’t already doing. Surgery might be called for in this case, but he  
wouldn’t know until he looked at the tests and x-rays.

It would be up to Stebbins if he wanted to go that far. Patients died under the knife  
while trying to correct ulcers.

And Stebbins didn’t like to lose any of his patients. He fought to keep them alive  
despite their conditions.

Oakley found Stebbins outside the room. He had a case file in his hands. He chewed  
on his pen as he read the documents. That was usually a sign he was worried.

“What’s going on, Clark?” Oakley looked around. The corridor should be white with  
green trim and carpet. Other colors bled through as he waited.

“This guy is presenting all the symptoms of an ulcer.” Stebbins handed over the file.  
“He’s not responding to treatment.”

“I don’t see what I can do that you aren’t already doing.” Oakley went over the file  
slowly. Stebbins had tried everything he could short of surgery. The x-ray picture  
showed a dark spot where they would expect an ulcer to be. “Let me look at him.”

Oakley led the way into the room. He glanced at the other man in the room. The man  
appeared to be asleep. He seemed fine with a broken leg in a cast. Things like bugs  
appeared to be knitting his leg back together slowly.

The doctors paused by the other bed. The man in this one shivered. Sweat covered his  
face. A trace of blood leaked from where he had bit his lips. A fire danced through  
his middle.

Oakley checked the basin on the table by the bed. A small amount of water remained  
at the bottom.

“Can you get me some more water, Clark?” Oakley passed the basin to the other man.  
“I’ll check his vitals and see if I can get a response.”

“I’ll be right back.” Stebbins took the basin and left the room.

Oakley considered what he could do about the fire. He was sure it was some kind of  
external manifestation of the man’s problem. How did he fix it?

He grabbed the fire and pulled. The flame gave ground reluctantly as he pulled on it.  
He pulled it free after one huge tug. He dropped it in the basin of the other man. The  
water at the bottom steamed as the fire went out.

Oakley smiled as the sweat started drying on the man’s face. He didn’t know what  
had been eating the man up on the inside, but the root cause was gone. He was sure  
of it. How did he explain it to Stebbins?

Maybe he could put it off to a delayed reaction to the medicine. It happened  
sometimes.

Whatever was going on, it was helping him. He just didn’t know how to control the  
reaction yet. If he could do that, he might be the best doctor ever.

He didn’t know what the effects were on him. How long could he do this magic trick  
before he cracked and lost his mind? That was the real question. The changed  
atmosphere of the hospital was already working against the rational parts of his brain.

Maybe he needed to take a leave and see if he could get this under control on his own.

He certainly couldn’t explain what he was doing when he didn’t know.

“He’s looking much better.” Stebbins came in with the fresh basin. “What did you  
do?”

“Nothing.” Oakley switched the full basin for the empty one. “It must be a delayed  
reaction to the medicine he was prescribed. That happens all the time.”

“Okay?” Stebbins squinted at his patient. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Just keep him under observation.” Oakley handed the case file back. He had dropped  
it on the bed when he had pulled the fire out. “If he starts getting worse, let me know.  
Maybe something will have occurred to me to help him out.”

“Sorry for bothering you, Larry.” Stebbins frowned at the sleeping patient. “I thought  
for sure he was going to die.”

“He might have.” Oakley thought the fire would have eaten away at the man  
eventually. Pulling it out might have been a temporary measure. “Just keep an eye on  
him until we’re sure he’s all right.”

“Right.” Stebbins nodded. “Thanks for looking in on this.”

“It’s good.” Oakley smiled. “I have to walk my rounds and then check in with Inez  
before I go home. Let me know if you need any more help.”

“Golf this weekend?” Stebbins made a swinging gesture with the case file under his  
arm.

“I don’t know.” Oakley shrugged. “I have to look some things up. I’ll let you know  
before the weekend.”

“Take it easy, Larry.” Stebbins exited the room to put the case file back in the cabinet  
where it belonged. Oakley walked in the opposite direction.

Golf was the last thing on Oakley’s mind. His new perception had changed the  
hospital for him. He wanted it back to the way it had been. Watching things crawl on  
the patients was worse than figuring out what was wrong with them with tests.

Could he get his old perception back? Did he want it back when this new version of  
reality allowed him to cure people with minimum effort?

He needed a second opinion. What he was experiencing wasn’t a medical condition.  
If it was, it was one that he had never heard of before it happened to him. Where  
could he get advice that meant something?

This ability might turn on him at any moment. Where would he be then? There was  
no way any of the staff could help him.

Conventional means had no way to deal with what was happening as far as he knew.

That ruled out most of the medical community. What was left?

The answer eluded him as he worked his way down the halls. He made adjustments  
where he could, but several of his patients were terminal. Even his weird talent  
couldn’t root out the causes of their ailments. He realized his treatments were too late  
to be effective.

The monsters had eaten to much for him to pull them out. If he did, he would kill the  
patients trying to help them.

Oakley walked back to his office. He had done what he could, but it seemed that he  
couldn’t do anything if he couldn’t intervene soon enough.

He sat down behind his desk and thought about what he had done so far. He was  
helping his patients. He had signed an oath. He had to keep helping them until they  
were cured, or he couldn’t help them anymore. Exchanging his normal sight for this  
new vision had to be taken in stride and used until he couldn’t use it anymore. If it did  
something horrible to him, he would have to live with it.

He did feel like a magician in the way he was ridding his patients of their problems.  
That part was inevitable he supposed.

What else could he do with this new talent? Did it only show him horrors in his  
hospital? What else could it do?

Did he dare find out?

“Doctor?” Inez poked her head in the office. “I’ve filed the paperwork on the charts  
for the day. I’m getting ready to go.”

“Thank you.” Oakley smiled. “Have a good night, Inez. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Doctor Oakley.” Inez retreated from his office.

The doctor put his hands on his desk. He stared at the backs of them. He didn’t see  
anything strange about them now. Had he really done the things he thought he had,  
or had everything been a delusion? Maybe he needed to go for a ride and clear his  
thoughts.

A night drive might be what he needed. Then he could get some sleep and see what  
the morning brought.

If he could do the same thing in the morning, then he had to face the facts. He had  
snapped and didn’t know it, or he could really do the things he did and he didn’t have  
an explanation for how he did it.

He wondered if he should write some of this down. He didn’t want to admit that he  
was cracking up to his friends, but it might be a tool for his own therapy.

What happened if the visions went away after he got used to seeing them? Would he  
be a competent doctor depending on tests again, or unable to use his training because  
of how he had adjusted to his new ability?

Who would believe he couldn’t work miracles if he had shown that he was working  
them day in, and day out? He would be torn apart and unable to practice with  
sentiment against him.

Oakley stood. He had thought enough. He should go out and drive around, have  
dinner, and read some before bed. Then he could decide what to do when the shock  
had worn off.

He might not even have to make a decision if the visions weren’t present in the  
morning.

2  
Oakley got behind the wheel of his car. Its shadow resembled a horse, but he ignored  
it as he sat down. He had seen enough weird things lately that one more wasn’t going  
to phase him.

He decided that he could drive around the town, get some gas and head for a club  
between the city and Littleville. He had seen some outstanding bands there while he  
was eating. Maybe music would calm his mind while he thought about how his new  
ability worked.

He wondered if he was alone. How many people had been infected like he had. Was  
it an epidemic, or a rare condition that had appeared because he had reached a certain  
age?

He decided that it was something unique to him. He also decided he didn’t want to  
go to a sanitarium. He would have to hide his new ability so his colleagues wouldn’t  
think he had cracked under pressure.

He wondered what else he could do with it other than pulling things from his patients.  
Was that all there was to it? How could he test for something that was most likely in  
his head?

Oakley felt a fuzziness as he made a turn. He blinked his eyes. His favorite place to  
eat approached on the right. He blinked again and pulled into the lot. He closed his  
eyes.

He had covered miles in a few seconds. He took a deep breath. He hadn’t expected  
that. It had to be an aspect of his new talent. He couldn’t figure out how he had  
applied it.

He decided he should worry about it over a steak and a baked potato. His stomach  
would let him think when it was full.

Oakley got out of the car and headed inside the restaurant. The hostess smiled at him  
as she led him to a table next to a window. He sat down with a menu as she walked  
away to get a waitress.

He wondered how much stranger his day was going to be as he perused the choices  
in front of him. Maybe the food would come out and dance on the plate as they waited  
for him to eat them. He hoped not. He didn’t have the stomach for that.

The waitress arrived to take his order. He noted a small cloud hovering over her head.  
He selected something easy to cook in his opinion so he could eat and leave. Maybe  
surrounding himself with more people had been a mistake.

The thought that he was having a mental break came back to him as he looked out the  
window. How many could he hurt in his condition? Maybe he should give up  
medicine. He didn’t want to kill his patients while under the influence of his strange  
visions.

He especially didn’t want to tell Stebbins that he had pulled a fire from his patient and  
drowned it in the basin by the bed. Clark would try to have him locked up.

The meal came minutes later. He savored the cloud of aroma that drifted to his nose  
as he waited for his steak to start singing. Instead it remained still on his plate.

Oakley thought that was for the best as he dug in with knife and fork.

One of the other customers said something to the waitress as she worked the room.  
She gave him a negative expression. That added to the cloud over her head. The  
doctor sat back to watch, wondering what he should do.

Someone always wanted to act foolish in public. It didn’t help that his friends were  
egging him on. What would he do now?

The doctor ate slowly as he thought about what he could do in this situation. Did he  
want to say something to the loudmouths? What would they do in return? Did he want  
to get into a fight for someone he didn’t know? What would happen if his new talent  
kicked in and he did something worse than he expected in the heat of the moment?

Did he want to let them harass the waitress when he could do something to stop it?

Oakley finished his meal and looked for the waitress. He needed the check and then  
he could head home. Maybe he could use the teleportation trick again while driving  
home.

Could he move anything else with his mind? How did he test something like that?  
How had he done the thing with his car?

Maybe just concentrating on something had been enough to move him and his car  
across miles of space.

How was that even possible?

Maybe he could ask someone at the University. They might have some idea of what  
was going on. That might help him deal with his new talents.

His teachers should still be there. Ten years was a gap, but not so big that they had  
forgotten him.

His fear was no one could explain what had happened to him.

The waitress passed by the table of loudmouths to get to him. He stood up. She pulled  
her pad and ripped off his order so he could pay for it at the register up front. He  
smiled and handed her a tip. He brushed the cloud away after she turned away.

She seemed brighter as she walked away.

Oakley nodded. That had worked as well as what he had done for his patients. He still  
didn’t know what he could do to the loudmouths. He didn’t want to get close enough  
to touch them, but he didn’t know if he could do anything at a distance.

He wanted to do something to teach them a lesson. He thought about it as he walked  
pass the table to get to the door. He slapped the table as he went by, pretending to  
stumble. He righted himself and kept walking.

He ignored the food dancing and singing as he paid his check. He walked through the  
door as people stood to get a better look at the floor show. He headed for his car.

He wondered if he had done the right thing. He paused by the door to his car. One of  
the loudmouths tried to beat his steak down with a cup. He could see that through the  
window. He concentrated and let the food go back to normal.

That had worked better than he thought it would. He had some kind of magic moving  
in his eyes and hands. He needed to harness it better than dancing steaks.

What else could he do with this new power? What happened when it decided to go  
away?

Oakley decided that he should use it as much as he could to help his patients. Some  
of them deserved better than what he could do without this new talent. It was up to  
him to make sure they got that.

Maybe he could help people outside the hospital. He would have to think about that.  
He didn’t want to try to solve everyone’s problems with a wave of his hand. People  
would want him to do everything for them before he gave up in frustration.

He started his car and made for the exit of the lot. He should go home and get some  
rest. The food had been a help, but he felt tired. Maybe that was a side effect of  
whatever he was doing.

He refused to call it magic. That didn’t make sense to him. Magic was what powered  
fairy tales. He didn’t live in one of those.

Oakley admitted that magic was just as good a name for what he could do until he  
came up with something better to call it.

He wondered if anyone else had developed this talent. Were they using it responsibly,  
or were they wrecking havoc with it? He supposed he would know if someone  
decided to do more than what he had done.

The talent lent itself to high profile flash as far as he could tell. As long as he kept  
things under wraps, he should be able to avoid anyone looking for him for his talent.

He knew the reverse was certainly true. If anyone else kept their gift under wraps, he  
would never hear about it. He needed to think of a way to do something about that.

Maybe he could do something when he got home to help him. He didn’t know how  
his talent worked, but there had to be something he could do to help train it against  
any future problems.

Inspiration would strike. He had cases where he didn’t know what was going on, and  
then suddenly he did know. It was like getting struck by lightning. Something like  
that would happen to let him know how to do things when he got home.

He yawned as he thought about his home. He needed the sleep. Maybe this magic  
drained energy from him. How did he take that into account? Maybe he had to restrict  
himself from healing everyone he could.

He might be causing himself to be sick without realizing it. He had no way to  
measure that use at the moment.

That could be important. He had to know how much he could do before he hurt  
himself. He didn’t want to give himself cancer, or a stroke, by accident.

Maybe he should pick up some pulp magazines so he could figure out some  
parameters of his abilities so he could set limits.

He didn’t want to summon things men were not meant to know and doom the human  
race when he had trained to help members of it to heal and recover from their  
wounds.

The irony would be unbearable.

He also needed to keep a diary of everything he saw so he could figure out better  
ways of doing things. He wanted to be more effective with practice. Keeping a record  
would help that.

He arrived at his house seconds later. He pulled into the driveway and parked without  
putting the car in the garage. He cut the engine and fought the wave of sleep pushing  
on his brain.

What happened if he had a particularly bad dream? Would his talent do anything to  
him in his sleep? Did he want to find out in the worse way imaginable?

He needed to think of something to keep himself safe from something like his sheets  
coming to life and trying to dance.

3  
Oakley woke up in his chair, radio softly playing big band from its shelf next to him.  
He looked around. Nothing in his house had a glow about it. Maybe he had  
hallucinated the preceding day. You just didn’t pull an illness from someone’s gut.

What had caused the hallucination? Maybe he had been exposed to something at the  
hospital. That would explain some of what he had seen. The teleporting car could be  
a fugue where he had lapsed into a mental state where he hadn’t recognized the  
passage of time.

That seemed reasonable to him. He just needed to consult with someone to get a  
handle on his mental state. How hard could that be?

He went to his kitchen. He needed some coffee. Then he had to get ready to go to  
work. He had rounds at the hospital and some home visits. Once he took care of  
those, he could think about talking with someone who could help him.

He certainly couldn’t explain the extent of his problems to his colleagues. They  
would try to have him banned from practicing medicine. He didn’t want that. He  
loved medicine, and helping people was something he had wanted to do since he was  
a young man.

And he had helped his patients the day before unless he had accidentally killed them  
with his witch doctoring.

He needed to get with Stebbins and check on the man he had looked at yesterday. He  
needed to make sure he hadn’t killed the old guy.

Oakley put some water on to boil for his coffee. He raided his refrigerator for some  
meat and cheese. He pulled a loaf of bread from the bread box and cut off four slices  
and fixed sandwiches before putting the bread back in its paper wrapping and back  
in the box. He rinsed out his coffee cup and fitted a filter and coffee from a tin can.  
He poured the water into the cup, enjoying the smell of coffee in the air. He got rid  
of the filter as he added sugar from a jar to the cup.

He ate his breakfast slowly, pouring himself another cup of coffee along the way. He  
checked his watch and shook his head. He needed to get himself together and head  
out.

He changed into a fresh suit. The old suit was hung up for the next visit to the dry  
cleaners. He made sure he had all of his personal things before he stepped out of the  
house. The door locked behind him before he could fit the key in the lock.

He paused. He squinted at the door. He reached for the knob. The locks unlocked and  
the door opened on its own.

Maybe he was still having problems.

Oakley turned and walked to his car. The door shut and locked as he strode toward  
the automobile. He didn’t pause at the shadow of a horse rearing where he could see  
it. He got behind the wheel and the car started by itself.

He pulled out of the driveway. He headed for the hospital. Maybe he could have  
someone take a picture of his head. Maybe he had some kind of tumor on his brain.  
That was a reasonable explanation for things.

What was wrong with him?

Maybe he should clear his schedule and go away until he had this thing under control.  
That would prevent him from hurting anybody. It would be like a sabbatical. How  
could he get it approved by the administration?

Maybe he should confess and hand over his license to practice. That would remove  
one worry from his mind. The other that he was slowly losing that piece of himself  
would still be there, but maybe manageable if he didn’t have to worry about other  
people.

He pulled into the lot of the hospital and parked his car. He checked his watch. He  
had only been on the road a few seconds. He hadn’t slipped into a fugue. The car was  
supernaturally fast.

He needed to check on Stebbins’s patient. If the man was still alive, he might not be  
hallucinating after all. He might really have some kind of power in his hands.

What could he do with it? Did he want to keep using it? Where did it come from in  
the first place? What had happened to reality?

The worse thing was he couldn’t tell anyone about what he could do now. They  
would want to write papers and set up experiments to prove him a fraud. His name  
and reputation would be ruined.

He would never be able to practice medicine again. The board would want to exclude  
him on the grounds he might be crazed.

He walked into the hospital. He decided to check with Stebbins’s patient first. Then  
he could talk to Inez about his own cases.

He made his way through the building. He found the two men in their beds talking.  
He paused. How did he want to do this? Stebbins should be okay with a check.

“Hello, gentlemen.” He decided to take the straight approach. He didn’t need an  
excuse to check on someone.

“How’s it going?” The man with the broken leg turned to look at him. “Weren’t you  
here yesterday?”

“I’m Doctor Oakley.” He nodded. He had thought the man was asleep. He might have  
been wrong about that. “How are you feeling, Mr. Barton?”

“Pretty good.” The other man smiled. “The pain in my gut is gone.”

“Good.” Oakley smiled. “Are you having any other problems?”

“Naw.” Barton shook his head. “That Stebbins is a mother hen. He won’t let me leave  
until he’s sure I won’t die.”

“He’s a careful man.” The doctor nodded. “He’ll cut you loose when he’s sure. Don’t  
worry.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Barton nodded. “It’ll be great to get home.”

“I’ll be out of here first, bud.” The other man grinned. “A broken leg doesn’t rate a  
long stay in this place.”

“Fall off a taller building the next time.” Barton smiled as he said it.

“Have a good day, gentlemen.” Oakley headed for the door. “I hope everything works  
out better for you in the future.”

“Let that other doctor know I’m ready to go,” Barton called out.

“I’ll talk to him for you.” Oakley stepped out in the hall. It looked like his cure had  
worked. He had to check in with Inez, then check on his own patients.

Oakley walked to his office. Inez was at her desk already. She had a set of reports in  
front of her. She ran her finger over the listings as she read.

“Anything interesting?” Oakley traded his suit jacket for a lab coat.

“Not that I can see.” Inez kept reading. “It looks like a lot of negatives for these  
tests.”

“That’s good.” Oakley smiled. “It rules out all the things that the patients don’t have.”

“I didn’t look at it like that.” Inez kept reading. “You have a consult later today, and  
your rounds.”

“I also have a few home visits I have to do today.” The doctor frowned. “What’s the  
consult about?”

“I don’t know.” She looked up. “The administrator called while you were out. He just  
wants you to meet him in his office.”

“What time?” That couldn’t be good. Kelso didn’t invite you to his office just to talk  
to you.

“Three.” Inez looked at a note next to the reports. “It doesn’t say why he wants to talk  
to you.”

“Let his office know I’ll be there.” Oakley made a face. “I wonder what he wants.”

“It’s probably something trivial.” Inez went back to her reading. “I’ll put all this in  
the files while you’re doing your rounds.”

“I’ll check on everybody and then do my visits.” Oakley checked his watch. “I should  
be able to get back in time to talk to Kelso.”

“I’ll be here when you get back.” Inez nodded. She began sorting the tests into  
alphabetical order.

The doctor visited his patients. They all glowed to his eyes. He didn’t see any trace  
of the illnesses they had brought with them to the hospital. He assured them that he  
would have his nurse get their paperwork together so they could be released.

Oakley checked his watch. All of his patients were ready to go, and he was ready for  
them to go. He could get some new people in those beds if their cures were  
permanent.

Now all he had to do was make sure his home patients were still alive, and then he  
could find out what Kelso wanted. He doubted it was something good.

His terminal patients were resting. There was nothing he could do for them except  
care for them as they passed away. He didn’t like that but his new talent wouldn’t let  
him change that for them.

Oakley returned to his office. He changed jackets as he picked up the list of people  
he had to visit. They lived all over the city and into Littleville. If his car kept going  
as fast as it had been, he should be done in plenty of time.

“I have everything filed, and I have some of the paperwork done.” Inez paused in her  
typing.

“I’m keeping my patients for observation for the most part.” Oakley frowned as he  
remembered the number of people he was going to send home. “I’m planning to send  
a lot of them home. I’ll need the standard releases ready for them. I’ll get you the  
names when I get back.”

“I’ll fill them out.” Inez nodded. “How many?”

“About ten.” Oakley didn’t take time to get an actual number. He could do that when  
he got back to the hospital.

“Don’t forget your meeting.” Inez pulled blank reports from a drawer.

“I’ll be back.” The doctor walked out of his office. Of course, if one of his patients  
had died, he could be tied up until arrangements were made.

He headed to his car. He saw the shadow horse paw the ground. It was ready to run.

An ambulance rolled up to the door of the hospital. He walked over in case the  
attendants needed his help.

“How’s it going, Doc?” Corky Jones opened the back door of the ambulance. “Got  
hit by a bullet, or something.”

Oakley helped the gurney out on the driveway. He looked at the man. A haze of light  
surrounded the wound. He examined the hole in the man’s chest after taking away the  
bandage. He shook his head. Whatever was in the man’s chest, it wasn’t a bullet.

He concentrated on the haze of light. He could see numbers and letters rotating  
through the cloud. He frowned as they seemed to be pulling their glow from the  
wounded man. He turned some of the letters around so that the flow slowed to a  
crawl.

He wiped the blood away. He saw something glowing inside the hole. He checked the  
inside the wound. The flesh seemed to be charred after the initial wounding. The  
tunnel didn’t need to be stitched close from the looks of things. He wasn’t sure that  
he could bring the edges of the hole together for such a repair.

“Take him inside.” Oakley frowned. “We need to get him some oxygen and take a  
picture of whatever that is in his chest.”

“Right.” Corky grabbed the head of the rolling bed while his partner grabbed the foot.  
“We’ll get him settled in for you, Doc.”

“I’ll have to let Inez know.” Oakley jogged back into the building. “She’ll have to call  
my patients for me.”

He followed the attendants down to the first empty room the hospital had. They  
transferred his new patient to a bed and retreated. He went to work with nurses in  
attendance.

4  
Oakley sat in the chair beside his patient. It looked like the worse was over. The man  
would live.

The doctor checked his watch. He had missed his meeting with Kelso. He would have  
to smooth things over when he could. He supposed he might be dismissed for that.

His main worry was the field of letters and numbers around his patient. They tended  
to wrap around things and lift them in the air. He had traced it to the object implanted  
in the patient’s chest. It just poured out power without control.

He had compacted the field to the hole with his hands, forming it into a ball. He had  
struggled with the letters and numbers, but he linked them to the patient’s brain and  
forced the cloud into something it noted as a standby mode. Things had calmed down  
after that.

Oakley reviewed what he had done in his mind. It was the same as he had been doing  
with his patients. They seemed to be all right. He had no doubt this man would  
recover from his shooting.

“Hey, Larry.” Stebbins came into the room. He gestured at the wounded man. “How’s  
he doing?”

“He’ll live.” Oakley looked at the other doctor. “We got him stabilized, and he’s  
taking in water okay. He doesn’t seem to be in pain. I expect that to change when the  
shock wears off.”

“I got these from the fluoroscope people.” Stebbins handed over a manilla envelope.  
“They said it was of your man’s chest here.”

Oakley took the envelope and shook out the film inside. He held them up to the  
overhead lights one at a time. He frowned at the blob depicted.

“We might kill him trying to get this out.” He shook his head. He might be able to do  
it with his talent, but did he want to expose it to the rest of the staff? “It’s like a rod  
from what I can see.”

“Can I?” Stebbins held out his hand. He took the film and examined it in the same  
way as Oakley. “This thing is holding shut a lot of the damaged area. If we operate,  
we’ll open most of that up. I give it sixty-forty we kill him on the table.”

“That’s better than what I would give.” Oakley shook his head. “We’ll let him make  
his choice when he wakes up. As long as it doesn’t move around in his chest, it  
should be okay to leave it alone.”

“I agree.” Stebbins put the pictures back into the envelope. “Personally I would like  
better odds than forty percent before I try not to kill someone.”

“Oakley, and Stebbins.” The bitter voice of Garret Kelso came from the door. “I  
noticed you missed the meeting.”

“Had an emergency.” Oakley waved his hand at the sleeping man in the bed. “We  
think he’ll live despite having a piece of metal in his chest.”

“Shot?” Kelso frowned at the patient.

“Nope.” Stebbins smiled. “But just as good as from what we can see in the pictures.”

“Since you both missed the meeting, I’ll put down the main points for you right now.”  
Kelso put his hands in his white coat’s pockets. “The administration is looking at a  
budget shortfall. We have to empty the rooms and cut back our staff until things pick  
up again. So I need you to assess your patients and get them out of here as soon as  
possible.”

“Really?” Stebbins frowned. “How many beds are we talking about here?”

“As many as you both can do.” Kelso’s lined face twitched around his long nose. “We  
have to try to clear three floors.”

“The hospital would be partially shut down.” Stebbins waved his arms. “People could  
die.”

“Hopefully they’ll pay us first.” Kelso didn’t flinch from the emotion. “It has to be  
done. Get cracking, boys.”

“I don’t like this at all.” Stebbins glared at his boss. “Can’t you stop this?”

“If I could, I would.” Kelso turned to leave. “Clear those rooms. Get this guy out of  
here as fast as possible.”

“What do you think, Larry?” Stebbins looked like a dog baring his teeth. “Isn’t there  
something we can do?”

“I don’t know.” Oakley stood. “Luckily, most of my patients are ready to go one way,  
or the other. As soon as this guy wakes up, I’ll see what he wants to do. If he can  
move out of here under his own power, there’s nothing I can do to stop him.”

“How do I explain to my patients the hospital wants them out of here whether they  
are okay, or not?” Stebbins hung his head.

“Let me clear out my ready patients first.” Oakley clapped his shoulder, dislodging  
a growing cloud starting to surround his friend. “Then we’ll check each of yours and  
let the ones who don’t need much help go first.”

“Okay.” Stebbins nodded. He handed the envelope back. “That sounds like a plan.  
Thanks.”

“It’s no problem.” Oakley looked at the chart for his patient. “I wonder why the  
administration decided to clear three floors. That doesn’t make sense.”

“They probably plan to rent them out to rich people with hypochondria.” Stebbins  
went to the door. “I have to let Carol know we have to start dumping our patients on  
the street.”

“I’ll let Inez know.” Oakley put the chart back. “She should have releases ready for  
my patients.”

“Let me know when we can start certifying mine.” Stebbins waved as he walked out  
of the room.

Oakley frowned. Clearing three floors of the hospital seemed counterproductive to  
him. He wondered what was going on.

He looked down at his hands. They glowed to him. Maybe he should use his strange  
talent to find out what was going on. How hard could it be?

He had to take care of his responsibilities first. He didn’t want to do something stupid  
with people around to get hurt by his snooping.

He definitely couldn’t tell Stebbins. The other doctor would want to express his  
righteous indignation to the Board.

Oakley left the room. He had to talk to Inez. Then he had to get something to eat  
while he tried to figure out what he could do.

The cloud around his newest patient had been unexpected but he had handled it. He  
hoped he had dialed down the effect enough while hooking it to the guy better than  
a hole in his chest. He had no doubt the rod was the cause of the phenomena he had  
observed. Hopefully none of the nurses had seen what he had while they were  
working to keep the unknown man alive.

Floating basins would be hard to explain if someone said something about it. He  
hoped looking like a fool would prevent any comments.

He made his way to his office. Inez sat at her desk, reading a report with her finger  
marking her place.

“We’re going to need those releases earlier than I thought.” Oakley handed her the  
envelope with the pictures in it. “That’s the x-rays of our mystery man in two thirty  
six.”

“Gun shot?” Inez took the envelope and filed it in the bottom file marked Unknown  
on the front.

“He’s got something in his chest, but it’s not a bullet from the looks of things.”  
Oakley sat in a visitor’s chair. “It looks too dangerous for me to have it pulled out.  
I’m going to let him know when he wakes up.”

“What do you think happened?” Inez returned to her desk.

“Don’t know.” He closed his eyes. “Corky said this thing had come through the guy’s  
windshield. It’s plugging up part of the hole, and charred the inside of the wound. I  
hope he can live with it, because I think we’ll kill him trying to get it out in an  
operation.”

“So as soon as he’s back on his feet, we ask him who he is, then get him out of here?”  
Inez frowned. “Is that wise?”

“It’s what the Administration told Kelso to do, so he wants us to get as many of our  
people out of here as fast as we can.” Oakley shrugged. “That includes our new  
patient.”

“That seems strange to me.” Inez began work on the forms that needed to be filled  
out. “Did Dr. Kelso say why?”

“To save money.” Oakley stood. “We’ll go around tomorrow to talk to our people. I’ll  
have to do my home visits as soon as I can after that. Do I have anything else I need  
to worry about?”

“I don’t see anything on the calendar.” Inez glanced at the document. “You should be  
clear to the weekend.”

“I’m going to take a nap in my office.” Oakley went into the inner room. “Go home  
when you get done with the papers.”

“Right.” Inez nodded. “I’ll lock up when I leave.”

Oakley rolled his jacket up and laid it down on the floor. He laid down, using the roll  
as a pillow. He closed his eyes. He really needed to figure out how to use his ability  
without getting tired all the time.

At least he hadn’t turned anyone into a toad yet.

Could he turn someone into a toad? How did something like that work? He smiled as  
he drifted off. He would love to turn Kelso into a toad.

He awoke with a start. The night was beyond his windows, peering in. He listened to  
the room. He thought he heard chanting.

Where was that coming from? He sat up. It sounded like chanting. He should see who  
was behind it. He didn’t think chanting was allowed in the hospital.

He checked his watch in the ambient light from his window. Only seven according  
to the timepiece. He stood. He felt achy, but went to his door.

Where was that chanting coming from? He stepped into Inez’s office. Everything was  
in place. She had left a note to say that she had the forms ready depending on who he  
wanted to talk to in the morning.

He opened the other door and stepped out in the hall. The night people were on duty  
and carrying out their tasks as well as the day shift. He realized that some of them  
might not know him. He shrugged. He was a doctor. He could wander the hospital if  
he wanted to do that.

He headed down the hall, chasing the sound only he could hear. One glance told him  
the voices were nonexistent to the staff working around him.

He followed the sound to the stairs. He headed up. He paused on the next floor. The  
chanting was still drifting down from above. He headed up to the next floor, and then  
the top.

He looked around. He didn’t see a source for the chanting. He walked forward. Why  
were the lights so dim? Things crawled in the shadows of familiar objects. He  
frowned.

How did he straighten this out? He concentrated on the shadows as he tried to think  
of a solution.

5  
Oakley followed the chanting. No one else seemed to hear it, so he knew he was  
hearing it because of his new ability. He considered the new wrinkle on his problem.

None of his other hallucinations generated sound before he interacted with them. Why  
was he hearing chanting at all? The words sounded vaguely like Latin. He doubted  
a chorus of Roman Catholics were staging a service that only he could hear.

He paused when he got to a closed door. The chanting drifted through the crack at the  
bottom between the door and the floor. A small glow blinked with each word. Chains  
of letters covered the door, locks joined the chains together, anchors pinned the  
chains to the walls on either side of the door.

Oakley rubbed his chin as he examined the locks. Did he want to go through the  
trouble of getting through these chains to see what’s inside this room? He wondered  
if someone else had developed his talent. What were they using it to do?

Did he have the right to interfere?

He sensed he was about to make a decision that he could regret no matter what he  
decided. If he went in, he had basically assumed the role of the magic police of his  
own choice. If he didn’t and something was done to hurt the patients and staff, he  
would be guilty of allowing it to happen.

Oakley pulled on the chains. He couldn’t dislodge the spikes from the walls. He  
needed to resort to some other means. He needed keys for the locks.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He selected the one for his office.  
He concentrated on the central lock. He jammed his key into the lock and twisted with  
all of his strength. The lock popped open. He pulled the key from the lock.

Oakley pulled the chain from the central portion of the door. He noted the staples  
used to hold it in place. He frowned at the effort to keep this one door shut.

He worked on the rest of the chains, dropping them on the ground when he had the  
locks opened. He paused. The chanting had grown in volume as he worked. He  
needed to take a look and then he could figure out what he was supposed to do.

He grabbed the door handle and pushed the door open. It felt like a great weight  
leaned on it at first, but he kept applying pressure until he had the door open a crack.  
Then he paused. The door tried to close against his weight.

He stepped back enough to get running room. The door started closing. He threw his  
whole weight on it. It reluctantly slid out of the way to let him pass.

He recovered enough of his balance to step inside the room on his own two feet. The  
door shut behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. The pressure was denoted by an  
arrow and a direction. When he wanted to leave, he would have to change the arrow  
to point somewhere out of the way.

The patient beds had been folded as much as possible to get them out of the way. The  
chairs had been pushed up against the wall next to the heads of the beds. Lit candles  
replaced the modern light fixtures used by the hospital. A man in white stood on a  
fountain of letters and numbers. He paused in his chanting to glare at Oakley from  
behind a mask resembling a dragon and a goat combined.

“How did you get in here?” The lips of the mask moved. Oakley blanched at the  
thought the mask was really a face.

“I opened the door.” Oakley threw a thumb over his shoulder at the wooden barrier.  
“What are you doing?”

“I am trying to summon an extraplanar deity to do my bidding.” The dragon goat  
smiled. “I plan to let it feed on the patients while it does that.”

“Do you really think that’s possible?” The doctor crossed his arms. He had seen a lot  
of things in the last few days. Where did an extraplanar deity stand compared to that?

“It’s been promised to me.” The masked man glared at his unwelcome visitor. “My  
experiment already netted me one that I put in a nobody here. Something happened  
to it, but it showed that my method works.”

“You put something in a human being?” Oakley frowned. His first thought was  
Stebbins’s patient with the sudden downturn in his ulcer. “Are you insane? Why  
would you do that?”

“I had to make sure the process worked.” The dragon goat raised a hand. “I think you  
should experience the feeling first hand.”

Oakley looked around for a weapon. He didn’t want a struggle with something trying  
to eat him.

He didn’t see anything close enough for him to grab. He pulled out his pen. Maybe  
he could use it as a stabbing weapon.

The air around the Dragon Goat’s hand shifted like pages of a book turning until they  
reached the one passage they wanted. A thing of fire and yellow eyes flung itself at  
the doctor with a hissing like steam from a boiler.

The pen transformed in the doctor’s hand. It glowed like a sword of light as he braced  
for the creature’s attack. His arm moved on its own, cutting the fire snake down in  
midair. He grimaced at the horrible death cry it gave. He stabbed it in the face to  
make sure it was dead and off the field.

He didn’t want to be bitten while he was dealing with some other threat.

“So you’re a wizard too.” The Dragon Goat slid forward on his fountain of numbers.  
“I should have expected some jealous rival would show up to spoil things for me. I  
won’t let that happen.”

“I don’t even know who you are.” Oakley held his sword on guard. “I wouldn’t even  
be here if it wasn’t for your chanting filling the building.”

“It doesn’t matter.” The summoner raised both hands. “You are in the way now. You  
have to be removed.”

“Really?” The doctor glared at his enemy. “You have to be kidding.”

“Good-bye.” The air flipped around the wizard. The wind pushed on Oakley.  
Something with too many limbs reached out of the air. “I sacrifice you for the greater  
good.”

“I don’t think so.” Oakley flung his glowing sword into the transformed air. A wall  
of fire filled the room.

The doctor smiled as the monster departed the hospital room. A fireball tended to do  
that he supposed.

“What are you going to do now that you’ve thrown your weapon away?” The Dragon  
Goat punched the air. Clouds of bugs leaped from the gesture.

Oakley pulled some coins from his pocket. He flung them into the air between him  
and the bugs descending on him. The change grew into walls from floor to ceiling.

The insects climbed through the open spaces in the makeshift fence. They buzzed as  
they centered on their target. The buzzing grew as they descended on the doctor. He  
struck the quarter as he backed up. The call of a hunting bird answered his blow. The  
smashing of glass followed.

Oakley charged forward, knocking the dime down on that side of the room. He ran  
along the coin until he could jump out of the window himself. To stay in the room  
was a death sentence as far as he was concerned. Jumping bought him a couple of  
minutes of thought so he could try to turn things to his advantage.

He had to fly. His ability should let him do that. He just had to find a way to use it.  
Maybe he didn’t need to fly. Maybe all he had to do was land without being hurt.

He smiled. He could do that at least. All he had to do was make sure his feet hit the  
ground before the rest of him.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was a chance. Then he had to think of a way to deal with the  
bugs long enough to deal with their summoner. At least the other wizard was too busy  
trying to fend off the summoned metal eagle to cause mischief for the doctor while  
he tried to land safely.

Oakley landed on the parking lot. He bounced up and landed gently on the second  
impact. That had went better then he had thought it would.

The swarm swooped down on him. He had to deal with them in some way. How could  
he do it?

He pulled out a dollar as he ran from the bugs. He looked at the combat with the  
eagle. The bird caught fire and exploded after harassing the wizard into getting into  
a car. The lights had acted as death rays as far as he could tell.

Oakley concentrated on the dollar bill as the bugs closed on him. George Washington  
stepped out of the bill. He grew as he approached the car. Death ray lamps set his  
booted feet on fire as he stepped on the car.

The doctor threw the bill at the bugs as they chased him across the lot. It expanded  
into a net. The enlarged paper bore most of the cloud to the ground under its weight.  
He turned back and stomped across the cover before they could figure out how to  
escape.

Now all he had to do was take care of the surviving bees, the crushed car, and the  
Dragon Goat.

How had he got into this situation?

The car ripped apart as the foot of giant George Washington stamped down again.  
The Dragon Goat raised his hands to ward off the huge foot. He vanished under the  
impact.

Oakley wondered if his enemy had survived the blow. He didn’t stop George from  
continuing to bring his foot down. He had his own problems.

He had to get rid of the insects that had been summoned to kill him. He needed  
another trick to handle the rest of them. He doubted he would survive their stinging  
once they closed on him.

He decided to borrow a trick from his enemy. He ran to a parked car. He touched the  
hood and the engine came to life. The lights came on. That surrounded him in a cone  
with his shadow jumping around wildly. The bugs charged into the light and exploded  
on contact with the beams.

That worked better than I thought it would.

Oakley gestured for the car to follow him. He walked to where George was still  
stamping down on his enemy. He waved for the giant to step aside. That had been a  
piece of luck that his desperate idea had worked at all.

The Dragon Goat lay in a crater. He had a bubble up to protect himself from the  
impact of the foot. It had prevented him from being reduced to paste. He appeared  
stunned by what had happened to him.

Oakley decided that he couldn’t kill the other man. That would violate his oath. He  
had to do something else to reduce the threat to humanity. What he had been trying  
to summon upstairs was a danger to everyone in the hospital going by the fire snake  
he had put in Stebbins’s patient.

The doctor looked for a way through the bubble. He found interlocking E’s at the  
center of it. He twisted them until the bubble collapsed. He grimaced. The other man  
still held his arms up in his warding gesture.

He took a pulse. It seemed thin and thready to him. It felt like a heart attack to him.

He grabbed the mask and pulled on it. It resisted his efforts at first, but he pulled out  
several pins holding it to the shoulders of its wearer and it came free. He frowned at  
how lifelike it seemed in his hands. He crushed the mask into a flat disc and tucked  
it in his wallet. He would deal with it later.

He checked his patient again. The eyes were dilated, heartbeat weak and fading, skin  
clammy to the touch. He had to get the man to a bed to be treated.

He also had to cover up the existence of the magic he had been casting too. He didn’t  
need any more headaches.

Oakley looked around. The parking lot had a lot of damage to fix. He suspected the  
third floor room had been noticed by now.

He decided he had to get the other magician in the care of his colleagues, then he  
could fix the lot and the room upstairs. He grabbed the man out of the crater and lifted  
him over a shoulder. Hopefully, no one would look outside and see the mess before  
he could fix it.

He picked up the corner of the dollar bill as he passed. It drew in the giant George  
Washington as it shrank. He stuffed it in his pocket as he carried his enemy to the  
door of the hospital. He pushed through and deposited his burden on a gurney. He  
waved a nurse over.

“I think he had a heart attack outside.” He doubted wizard duel could be listed as a  
cause for such a thing. “I need you to get him to a room and checked over. Is any  
other doctors on duty?”

“Kildare is here.” The nurse checked the eyes of the downed man. “Isn’t this Corky  
Jones?”

“Yes.” Oakley nodded. “Tell Ben I found him out in the parking lot. He seems to have  
had a heart attack, or a stroke. He’ll be able to tell which is which after an  
examination.”

“What about you?” The nurse looked at him. “Shouldn’t you be taking care of this?”

“I can’t take on anybody new right now.” Oakley searched for a lie good enough to  
use. “Kelso wants Stebbins and I to move our patients out of the hospital as fast as  
possible.”

“Skinflint.” The nurse went to the phone to call for the doctor on duty.

Oakley did one more check on Jones before he went back outside. He had to  
straighten that mess out before anyone arrived to see it.

He repaired and pushed the cars back where they were with a gesture. He swept the  
dead insects into the crater in the lot. Then he smoothed the asphalt over. He looked  
around. Everything looked normal to him. Now he had to fix the third floor.

He walked back into the hospital, pausing to exchange some words with Ben Kildare  
before getting on the elevator to go to the third floor. Kildare was solid and would  
take care of Jones for him.

The third floor still had a cloud, but it was fading. Oakley surmised it was something  
Jones had done to keep people from his room. He walked in the empty room and  
closed the door.

He shrank his change, and fixed the window by pulling all the glass back in place. He  
looked around the room. His gaze settled things in small waves as he turned in a  
circle.

He nodded at his repairs. He should head home, but he needed to check on his  
mystery man with the hole in his chest and Corky Jones.

Then he could start figuring out what he was going to do with the dragon mask in his  
pocket.

6  
Oakley sat at his desk, looking out his window. Reports from the small chemistry lab  
the hospital used sat on the top. He supposed he should go through them and see what  
they could tell him. He just preferred to let it wait for a few minutes.

Most of his patients had nonlethal conditions so he could take the time to relax and  
cloud gather until he was ready to get started.

It had been a busy few months since his confrontation with Corky Jones. Kildare had  
done what he could but the former ambulance driver remained in his coma. As far as  
they could tell, his brain had suffered some type of stroke and shut all of his higher  
functions down. He slept his life away in a bed on the floor where he had tried his  
summons.

The only explanation he could come up with was Jones had strained his body when  
he had fought to not be crushed by the green giant George Washington.

The actual things he had been doing might have also contributed since he had seemed  
to summon things instead of altering items like Oakley had done. That might have put  
more strain on his body to get things done.

A sealed bottle held the dragon goat head. It lay at the bottom of the bottle in what  
looked like despair and grief. Separating the elaborate mask from the ambulance  
driver might have contributed to the man’s restive fate.

Summonings of extradimensional menaces had to be stopped. None of his patients  
were going to feed such a monster if he could help it.

He was troubled by the need to clear the hospital’s upper floors. Kelso had announced  
they were renting those floors out to hold criminally insane patients. A staff of  
doctors would handle that aspect of things.

General practitioners such as himself only had the lower two floors for their patients.  
And the injured had to be cleared out as soon as they could be sent home.

He didn’t like that decision. Too many things could go wrong with mentally deranged  
criminals mixing in with ordinary citizens. He admitted that he would feel better if  
they were in some other facility.

When the rooms were ready, he planned to make them as secure as he could. The  
hospital would not survive an escape. He felt sure of that. He wanted to ask Kelso  
what was going on, but knew that wouldn’t get him any answers.

Kelso would just give him something empty about needing the money to keep  
operating.

He didn’t believe that explanation at all.

And Edward Thaw recovered from his wounding. He had been cautioned about the  
thing in his chest and that it should be removed but it would be dangerous. He  
checked out and went home. He told them that he would just live with the thing until  
it did more to hurt him.

Oakley thought the man would be found dead in his home, but let him go. He had  
done what he could with the limited understanding of his own abilities and his patient  
should live despite carrying around a hunk of metal the size of a gun barrel in his  
chest.

Thaw said he would come in for his check up in a few months. That was the best they  
could do at the moment.

Oakley spent the next few months practicing. He set up his home to repel intruders  
by drawing a circle around his house and changing the line to stop anyone but him  
from coming into the yard. He was pleased the first time he saw the wandering  
neighborhood dogs moving away instead of crossing the line.

He started a library in an unused guest room. A slap of his hand made the room bigger  
on the inside than out. Shelves filled the walls from the floor to the unseen ceiling  
above. He put one book he had found at a used book store on the bottom shelf.

He doubted the HISTORY OF LEMURIA was real, but it was something that hinted  
at what he could do with his new ability.

The other thing he started was a journal detailing what he was undergoing, and what  
he saw as his limits were. He planned to use the journal to record everything useful  
so he could control his abilities a little better.

He already had a way he could fly like a bird. He had verified that the command  
would work. It didn’t matter if he used his car, or something like a carpet. He could  
get to anywhere surrounding the city in a matter of seconds if he wanted to bad  
enough.

He had used it to solve some emergencies once he had been alerted by the radio. He  
had left some puzzled firemen in the aftermath. He hadn’t stuck around to let them  
see him. He enjoyed the anonymity.

It allowed him to move around and do things without allowing anyone to zero in on  
him as the source. He decided to create a masked persona as a disguise. That had  
worked well for the comatose Jones. He didn’t plan on imbuing his mask with his  
power to avoid what had happened to his enemy.

If he lost it, he didn’t want to be helpless in the face of an implacable adversary.

He also built a room inside his library to hold anything dangerous he took from  
someone. He enchanted it to keep people out as much as he could. He didn’t want to  
seize these weapons and then have them go back out in the world.

Eventually he would have to add guards to actively keep invaders out if they did cross  
the lines he had arranged.

He had no illusion that his preventative measures would keep out any extraordinary  
intruders with powers like his and Jones.

He checked his watch. It was almost time for him to start his rounds. His new ability  
made helping his patients a snap. He tried not to overdue it. He had noticed a  
weakness after using his ability too much. He put it down to low blood sugar. He had  
taken to carrying a snack with him to ward off the aftereffects.

He didn’t want to collapse in the middle of a rescue.

He stood and stepped out of his office. Inez sat behind her desk, typing up reports. He  
nodded as he paused.

“I have to walk the floor.” He noted the slowing of the typing. “Do I have any  
appointments?”

“Tomorrow.” Inez checked her calender. “Checking on Corky?”

“Yes.” Oakley shrugged. “Ben’s looking after him all these months has been  
excellent, but it doesn’t look like he’s going to wake up. Kelso wants him moved to  
a facility to clear the bed.”

“Someday someone is going to punch him in the kisser.” Inez stopped typing. “I hope  
I get to see it.”

“He’s just doing his job.” Oakley smiled. “I am waiting to see how this new  
psychiatric ward works.”

“Hey, Larry.” Stebbins walked into the office. “Have you seen this?”

“Seen what?” Oakley and Inez exchanged a look. “I’m getting ready to do rounds,  
Clark. Let’s talk while I check on my patients.”

“Sure.” Stebbins smiled at Inez. He followed the other doctor out in the hall. “This  
was in the paper today. It looks like a fake picture.”

He handed the paper over. It was folded so only part of the front page was visible.  
Oakley took it and stared at the picture.

FLYING MAN SAVES AIRPLANE filled the top half of the paper after he unfolded  
it. He scanned the story, before staring at the picture.

“This is some kind of joke, right?” Oakley reread the article as they walked down the  
hall.

“Nope.” Stebbins smiled. “The radio is covering it too. This is a big thing. We have  
a real life superhero flying over our city.”

“That’s just what we need.” Oakley shook his head. He handed the paper back.  
“What’s next? Flying monkeys?”

“This could be great.” Stebbins folded the paper up and put it under his arm. “We  
could have more beds due to disasters happening in the city.”

“People will be caught in the crossfire if pulp stories are any clue.” Oakley gave him  
a disapproving look. “We might as well say that all Doc Savage villains should blow  
up buildings here.”

“It might get Kelso to build another building we can use for ourselves rather than  
share space with his mice.” Stebbins waved a hand to indicate the hospital.  
“Something is going on and we are going to be the ones caught in the middle if things  
go bad.”

“Kelso is not going to get money for another building.” Oakley shrugged. “We’re just  
not busy enough yet.”

“What do you think about this flying man thing?” Stebbins waved the paper.

“What is there to think?” Oakley grimaced. “He supposedly saved a plane from  
crashing into the ground. I don’t see how there is a flying man, but that’s not our  
problem unless he shows up here.”

Is he another wizard like Jones and me? Oakley thought he wasn’t close to Jones at  
the moment unless he brought down the plane in the first place.

He would have to have a talk with this flying man sometime in the future. He had to  
look into it after he was done with his shift at the hospital.

Maybe he knew what was going on with this magic.


End file.
